DRACO IN CHAINS
by Kalasin
Summary: Love himslef. Be a Slytherin. Keep his true identity hidden. It was supposed to be easy, but for one Draco Malfoy, things have taken a different turn.
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I am not married, have no children, am not fair-haired and my name is most certainly not Joanne Kathleen Rowling.

A/N: **OotP has no effect to this fic whatsoever. ***sob*** **I refuse to acknowledge the death of my favorite character. (And no, Draco isn't my favorite character, so if you haven't read the 5th book, and I gave you a scare, well you can relax now)

DRACO IN CHAINS

Chapter One: Revealing

"Stupid redhead."

"Empty-brained blondie"

"Freckled little twit"

Harry looked back and forth between Draco Malfoy and his best mate Ron Weasley. Since Potions class had begun that morning the two had not stopped bickering. He himself had joined Ron's side, of course, but he soon got tired of it. And besides, Ron wasn't the one sitting next to Hermione who had continued to kick Harry every time he made a comeback at Draco ("You're going to get into trouble with Snape again!")

"Stupid spoiled brat"

"Moronic, frog-faced imbecile"

"Arrogant, pale-faced dunderhead"

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor"

The whole class, Slytherin and Gryffindor alike, looked up as Snape strode to the aisle between Ron and Draco. "For the worst, most _stupid_ comebacks I have ever heard in my entire life," continued Snape, sneering. Draco smiled evilly, and watched with satisfaction as Ron muttered under his breath. 

He nodded to Snape, who returned the equally dark smile. Draco watched as the Potions Master walked back to his desk and then continued to stir his potion. Contrary to popular believe, Draco did not pass because of his wealth. 

_'I'm not stupid, after all.'_

A loud snore beside him caused him to smirk at Crabbe, who had fallen asleep while shredding his ingredients. 

_'Unlike some people I know…'_

He looked at the Gryffindor table and saw Potter glaring at him. He sneered back. Contrary to popular belief, he didn't really hate Harry. 

He _loathed _him. _'Well,' _he thought. _"Not as much as I loathe my father…"_

He shook his head. Contrary to popular belief, Draco Malfoy hated his image as the mini-Lucius. He looked up and realized he had spaced out. 

He turned his head and saw Potter, who was ready to stand up, and Snape, who was staring at Granger with the most malevolent smile on his face. 

And contrary to popular belief, he didn't hate 'mudbloods' because he thought them unworthy and filthy.

He hated them because he was one of them.

***@***

Draco started to mince his wattlebird weeds, trying to ignore the smell. It wasn't exactly unpleasant, with its strong, lemon-like odor that seemed to be mixed with a bit of rose with the faintest hint of what seemed to him like caramel. 

However, he still tried to ignore its fragrance for fear it might bring back a memory he had been trying to erase: A memory that still lingered like a ghost in his mind. He remembered that day at the Malfoy Manor, when he was older than four but younger than ten, when he looked up to find his mother looking down at him.

As usual when she was alone with him that cold look was gone from her face. Instead, however, it showed him pain and hurt, so he knew she and his father had fought again. Now that he thought about it, he rather found it amusing how a 'cold-hearted' Slytherin like him recalled being lifted into his mother's arms and rather cherished the moment when he inhaled her perfume, not unlike the wattlebird weeds' smell.

What he did not cherish, however, was the story his mother started to tell him once she had lifted him up from his playroom floor.

_"Did you know how you came about, little one? No…no, you didn't, did you?"_

He remembered the tearfulness in her voice and then and there, young though he was, he knew that she wanted to tell him something that would change him forever, and that his mother wanted to divulge this secret to him alone.

_"When your father married me, my darling, both of us were soldiers for the Dark One. Do you know who he is, Draco?"_

And it was amusing, too, how he remembered how he had shaken his head and saw more tears flow from her eyes.

_"He is the devil, the monster behind every evil. Your father and I were his, and gladly did we serve him. Did you think we were happy then, Draco? Basking in the blood of the muggles, holding meetings in the darkest of taverns?"_

He remembered hearing a bitter laugh from her mouth.

_"Yes, my darling Draco, it was pure bliss."_

Everything after that came out with hatred from her mouth, and he had clung to her, rather scared. But he remembered _every-single-word._

_"Until your good-for-nothing father forced me to bear him a child. You know your father's pride, don't you, my son? He couldn't bear to not have an heir. And why should he? He was and is a Malfoy, and he would torture me if he could get a son out of it, because he would inherit nothing from his old man if he had no grandson to present to him!"_

Narcissa had fallen, then. Fallen to her knees, young Draco still in her arms. She was crying, and Draco had known she had cried because of her love for him and him alone as her baby.

She rocked them both on the floor, back and forth…back and forth, her tears flowing and flooding the floor.

_"So when next the Dark Lord asked him to help kill another muggle village, he brought back with him a baby, with hair silver-blonde as his, a muggle child, whose parents he had killed. That was you, my darling. And he presented you to his father who was too deaf and dumb already to realize I could not possibly have conceived and delivered in three months!_

_And now, my Draco, now that his father IS dead, and he has his filthy money…he will kill you…You whom I fed, and bathed and played with as if you were my own, simply because you HAVE NO MAGIC!"_

Draco recalled being showered with wet kisses from Narcissa, and thousand of promises from her. 

_"But you will not die, my child. You will have wizardry forced into you for you to live, my son…I will find a way…I promise, Draco…I promise."_

***@***

The bell had rung and Draco had hardly noticed. He turned again to glare at Potter, Weasley and Granger as they filed out of the dungeon. He didn't know how he had managed to grow, as a wizard instead of a muggle, didn't know what his mother had done for him to be so, and it was indeed the mere fact that he could do magic despite his hidden identity that made him cringe inside. But that was not what greatly troubled him.

What scared him was his true heredity, and he would burn forever to conceal it... Potter and his sidekicks started for the Charms classroom, but Draco's gray-blue eyes followed them.

…Conceal it especially from the Boy Who Lived

A/N: 

I can't say I'm that pleased with this one…but it's my first time to focus on Draco, so I need time to adjust. Sorry if it's lousy, I'll try to make it better! But no flames, those are useless, anyway.

So, click the review button and help me cheer up our dear Dork-o…er, I mean Draco…


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I know thousands of other female species are hungering for Draco-boy and co., or Harry and co., call them whatever you like…COZ I DON'T OWN THEM, ANYWAY!!! (I just love them…aw!: D) 

A/N: If you don't like this story and you'd like to flame me…hahaha, don't bother! I know I'm not the best when writing a Draco fic; I'm not even THAT fond of him, but I felt that it was about time I tried writing one, after all, Draco Malfoy is one of the more complex, even mysterious characters of Harry P. I think this is a really tough challenge…Oh well. On with the story.

Chapter Two: Secrets in the Night

The dark green blanket covered Draco from his shoulders to his feet. He tossed and turned, his slender fingers curling and uncurling in an untold fury. It was not only Harry who had nightmares to fear at bedtime.

***@***

Severus stopped writing in midsentence. Still holding his quill, he directed his gaze onto the air in front of him. Still in his robes of rich black despite the time (half past midnight), he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. It was that same day, years ago, when Narcissa Malfoy had approached him, and as always every year on the same day, he felt distracted and even distraught. He could not forget the moment she had walked into his office, and made him do something unimaginable.

_"Severus."_

Snape looked up, eyebrow raised. "I'm surprised you actually went all the way back to Hogwarts, Narcissa, just to see me. I am deeply touched." He had sat there, on his desk, as stoic as ever. 

_Narcissa peered around her at the cold dungeon walls and poor lighting. "I see everything here is to your taste, Severus. How wonderful."_

_"And I see that you're still the same conniving woman, Narcissa." He threw his hands up and watched her with exasperation. "What is it that you want?' The woman sat down on one of the chairs near Snape's desk. She smoothed out her robes, seemingly taking her time._

_Severus gritted his teeth. Two could play that game. "So," He said in a low whisper. "You and Lucius are still together. He told me you couldn't resist him—_

_"Shut up!" She hissed, glaring at him. Severus stood, his robes fluidly swishing and moving around his thin body. "I don't know how you got in here, Narcissa, but I advice you to go now, if you went here just to annoy me."_

_She stiffened. "I brought someone here with me. And I would like you to meet him." She stood and called to the door. "Come, Draco."_

_Severus watched as a young boy walked in, his gait as composed as any adult's. Narcissa beamed. "Draco, my son, greet the Hogwarts Potions Master." Draco turned to Severus, and eyes of the deepest, blue-gray met the depths of endless black. "Pleased to meet you, professor." The youngling turned to Narcissa. "I'm getting impatient, Mother. Will you be long?"_

Narcissa shook her head. "No. Now go wait for me outside." Snape watched as the kid marched out of the room. "Impressive, Narcissa. I hardly thought you and Lucius could come up with such a classy little package."

_"He isn't really our son, Severus."_

_And once she started talking Severus could only listen to every word that came out of her mouth._

_"I won't do it, Narcissa."_

_"And why not? You were always good at potions, and now you are the professor of the subject. Surely you can—_

_"I never said I COULDN'T. I just said I would not."_

_Narcissa walked up to him, her eyes filled with passion. "I need you to make him a potion, Severus! Lucius would kill him if you didn't!!! I would pay you all the galleons you wanted…"_

_He laughed scornfully. "I have no need for your money, Narcissa."_

_"Then make the goddamn potion! MAKE IT, SEVERUS!" It would have been better if she had not cried in frustration. " For my child's sake, make him a potion that will make him one of us! I do not care how you do—_

_He had cut her off. His lips covered hers with hunger, and his hands crushed her body against his. Finally he threw her backwards. "Stop it." He whispered. "For god's sake, Narcissa." He turned away from her and pointed to the door. "I will find a way to give it to you and instruct you on it to you. However I cannot assure you it will have a pleasing taste. Now go."_

_He heard her retreating footsteps and heard her stop near the door. _

_"My thanks, Severus. And Draco's as well."_

***@***

No, he loved Narcissa no longer. It had taken him time, but Severus Snape had only indifference for the woman now. "And yet that day still haunts me…"

The Potions Master stood and left his office to rest at last.

***@***

It was a nightmare. Draco knew it was. It had to be. Why else would he be shrunk to a seven year-old's body? Why else would Lucius Malfoy be striding around him as he sat on an expensive and rather luxurious armchair in their manor?

"So…Draco." Lucius voice was cold and firm. 

"Yes, Father?" He knew the man. And he knew that he was completely clueless as to how cunning a young child could be. Especially the one that was called Draco.

"You have been showing signs of having magic."

"Yes, Father." 

"Kindly enumerate these signs."

Draco masked his face with seeming innocence. It was something he had discovered he could do quite easily. 

"As you wish, father. Once, I made that statue of the wizard in our garden come to life. He—I mean it walked around for a full hour before it became immobile again. And then I turned my soup into a plate of ravioli, father, because I was upset at its awful taste. Oh, and I also broke two of our windows, Father, just by staring at them, and made all the plates and spoons dance around once, too."

Lucius watched him, and finally sighed. "Yes, Draco. I was there with the soup and the statue." He walked over to a tall, paneled window. "Draco, do you know why you are doing all these peculiar things?"

Draco was not given a chance to answer. Lucius had begun talking again. "It is because you are a wizard, child."

Draco answered each statement with a thought. _'No, I'm not. Mother said I wasn't. She made me drink a ghastly potion to give me magic. It's not because I'm a true wizard. You lie.'_

"You're a pure-blooded Malfoy Wizard, and you will continue to be one, do you hear?"

_'Do I have a choice? Do you think I will give these abilities up?'_

"I want you to know how fortunate you are. Some wizards are not so. Some are filthy little creatures, born of those stupid muggles. They are mudbloods, Draco, remember that."

'So that is what I truly am…now that you like what I can do I am officially your son…let it be for now…Lucius. And yes, I will hate them; I WILL HATE THEM!!!'

***@***

Draco turned and tossed again. His voice, full of animosity and pride echoed in his head. There were a thousand memories. He watched as his parents fought. He heard of muggles and their stupid ways. His ways. 

Again his voice of hatred echoed, and he was himself again, panting, staring up at the dormitory ceiling.

"Hate them, Draco." He shut his eyes with despair. "You have to hate them. You have to."

He fell asleep once more, sweating and thrashing in a world of nightmares that made him as powerless as if he had no magic at all.

A/N: 

Hm…I liked that chapter. Hope you did, too. Well, let's see…the last time I read the HP books was last year, when I read OotP, but other than that, I am embarrassed to say I kind of forgot some stuff, especially stuff from GoF, so if I get some things muddled up, I apologize in advance. ^_^ Don't get me wrong, I still love Harry Potter, I just need to re-adjust, and then everything will be okey-dokey…hopefully.


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: If I were JKR, I wouldn't waste my time writing something in fanfiction prose...I'd put my ideas into the next book...  
  
A/N: I think I've got something...watch for it in this chapter ;)  
  
Chapter Three: The Unusual  
  
Matters in the Transfiguration classroom were seemingly the usual. At least that was what Minerva thought the first time she looked up and stopped fixing her lesson plan and other school papers while she waited for the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins to finish the seatwork she had assigned to them.  
  
Compared to any other classroom, hers was very well lit, with towering windows framed with dusty gold. The floor was a matching shade of brown, with small crevices in the stone. The blackboard was half-filled with the history of the spell they were taking up, complete with the exact wrist movements needed in waving one's wand.  
  
Although normally an obsessive-compulsive person, Minerva's desk was quite filled with more bundles of parchment than usual. She had only managed to separate the test material for the seventh years from those of the fifth years when she spared another look at her class.  
  
A frown appeared on her face, as she watched one Draco Malfoy, chin resting on his hand and with a nonchalant look on his face. On his other hand he held his quill, with which he seemingly doodled on his parchment. His reference book lay unopened in front of him, unlike those of his batchmates, who were busy jotting down as much information as possible from the book's pages.  
  
Minerva's lip thinned, and she stood up and walked over to Draco, who, once again, showed contrast to those around him, who raised their heads the moment Minerva left her desk. "Mr. Malfoy, I would greatly appreciate it if you presented the work you've done. After all it seems like you don't think you need to sweat out doing the research?"  
  
Draco regarded her with a small, surprised look at first, and the professor glimpsed a pair of eyes with dark circles underneath and a certain red haziness in them. Draco handed her the parchment and she scanned it quickly enough.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, unless you want only a half-term grade for this school year, I suggest you put more than half the facts and data about this spell." The boy stared at her, and then at his wand. He picked it up with a fair, slender hand. "I don't need to, Professor. The spell's easy enough."  
  
"Which is exactly what you said in your fist year when you turned a piece of blue cloth into a huge bee instead of a piece of red cloth." Draco raised his eyebrows. "But professor, that was a long time ago. And surely my marks during the last test you gave us proved to you I know most of the things we are taking up already?"  
  
Minerva opened her mouth only to hear the sound of the bell. Her nostrils flared, a sure sign of her irritation, but she decided to let it go. She would just have to talk to Severus about the boy.  
  
She frowned at the rest of the class, who had been keen on her conversation with Draco. "Alright now, I shall see you all tomorrow, with a complete, no nonsense essay on this spell. Read pages nine hundred fifty-six to nine hundred eighty-seven. Next time I want you to pair up with someone to practice this spell. The outcome will be graded. Now hurry along to your next class."  
  
Draco did not even have the patience to wait for Crabbe and Goyle. He marched right out with the usual proud gait of his, and was a mite bit pleased at the adoring looks other students gave him. However, a voice in his head reminded him he had been lucky to worm himself out of McGonagall's obvious wrath.  
  
He shuddered. Charms had been the first class that morning, and something strange had happened. He had waved his wand to make a handful of leaves twirl in a complicated pattern, which was what Flitwick had assigned them to practice. He had said the spell audibly, waved his wand correctly, and concentrated.  
  
He did it three times...but the leaves had remained there, lying on the tabletop. It had taken him five more attempts before the leaves started to move awkwardly from side to side, but that was all they did.  
  
Before breakfast, he had summoned his books from underneath his bed, but it had taken him a full ten minutes before he managed to accomplish the spell: Oh yes, the books came...but crawling like snails one-by- one onto the common room where he stood, agitated.  
  
Before McGonagall had even caught him a while ago, he had tried to do a spell while she wasn't looking. He had tried to turn his set of books into something simple: a plate of pancakes. They had learned that all the way in second year, and it had only taken him a short time to learn it then. However, when he tried, all he had succeeded in doing was turning the front cover of the first book on the pile red from green.  
  
He glared at his wand as he marched to History of Magic. 'It must be this blasted thing. It MUST be.'  
  
***@***  
  
Harry looked up from the steaming cauldron in front of him. The potion had a sticky sweet smell and required maximum heat, therefore the atmosphere in the dungeon was heavier and drier than its usual freezing one since everyone had their fires blazing and sizzling as much as they could.  
  
In between measuring his ingredients and stirring the potion, he had felt himself sweat not only from the heat, but also from fierce curiosity. Instead of sneering and insulting the works of the Gryffindors and practically worshipping the works of the Slytherins at the latest potion they were learning, Professor Snape had remained seated behind his table, arms crossed. His alert black eyes, though, were focused on only one person.  
  
Draco.  
  
He spared a look at the seemingly brooding professor as he measured a cup of crushed beetle wings and quickly looked away when Snape's eyes flickered to his face. He quickly resumed making his concoction as the Potions Master stood up and strode rather quickly to where Harry was.  
  
He was just waiting for the harsh remarks to fall from the man's mouth when something crashed on the floor behind Snape. Everyone whirled around to find Draco, a startled look on his face as he looked down at a broken bottle of what used to be liquidized boar dung concentrate.  
  
Harry thought he caught a glimpse of Snape raising an eyebrow at the boy before speaking. "Accidents happen." The professor said smoothly. "Draco, clean it up then resume making your potion." He looked around at the Slytherins and Gryffindors and frowned at the latter, which stared with contempt. If one of them had broken anything, it would have meant fifteen points for their carelessness. Meanwhile, Harry watched at the corner of his eye as Draco reached for a rag and started to clean the mess on the floor, crouching and avoiding the glass. Snape stayed close, a lone figure between Draco and Harry.  
  
"What in the world do you think you're doing, Draco?" Snape's voice was a cold, low whisper that told Harry the statement was meant for Draco alone. Still, he strained his ears. Draco's voice was just as low. "Cleaning up my mess; isn't that what you told me to do, sir?"  
  
"I meant with your wand, you little know-it-all."  
  
Harry began to stir his potion as an excuse to be able to look up from arranging his ingredients. He only needed to lean back a little to see Draco's face, which was clouded with mystery. Draco shook his head just a little bit; Harry would have missed it if he weren't watching carefully. The Slytherin's eyes widened a centimeter. Snape's usually stiff, poised back and shoulders moved in a startled manner for a mere moment, and then went back to their normal position. "See me after class, Draco."  
  
He whirled around and Harry quickly busied himself in making his potion, his mind still contemplating what he had just seen and heard.  
  
***@***  
  
Severus regarded the boy in front of him carefully after everyone else had gone. Potions had been the last class for the day.  
  
"It's not the wand, Draco."  
  
The boy's eyes met his just like they did so many years ago.  
  
"I know; it's me, isn't it?"  
  
A/N:  
  
Ah. There you have it. I'm rather proud of it, but I still want to hear your comments and suggestions. Help me make this a good fic; I'd appreciate your reviews. See you all next time!!!  
  
Oh, yeah...this isn't slash, by the way. *Evil laughter* 


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, a lot of weird things would have happened: Snape would have been given more space and attention; Remus Lupin would have been given a job, and a certain someone would still be alive…*sobs* 

A/N: Hi!!! I like writing this story! I should've written Draco fics a long time ago. Anyway, I'm sorry but I've no interest in Draco pairings, and that's exactly why I focused on Draco alone here. It's more of a reflective, angst-filled, mysterious and even amusing story about Draco and the new identity I bestowed upon him…

And remember, poor Kalasin (That's me!!!) is still trying to remember all the HP facts she's forgotten!

Chapter Four: Damned Memories

Severus Snape was busy working late into the night. It was nothing new, in fact he was far too used to staying up late doing more work than any other person could accomplish during the day. What was unusual, however, was what exactly he was working on.

He had scheduled the night for checking papers and arranging all the sample potions he would need for the next two weeks. However, the moment Minerva had spoken of Draco and since he himself had talked to the boy, his plans had changed.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. The potion was not supposed to wear off. Potions made by Severus Snape always worked. Always. That explained why the said professor was up at two in the morning, still mixing his old black cauldron. 

There was a hodgepodge of smells in his work chamber, and everywhere there lay scattered an assortment of many things: powdered poisons in red, yellow and gray, packets of crushed beetles, unicorn horn and hippogriff claws, bottles of liquidized goat and boar dung, glasses of herbs submerged in acidic potions. 

Every now and then his artful hands would reach for the ladle to stir the potion, or pick up the knife to mince an insect or two. His eyes helped him measure everything precisely with a single look, and his brow was furrowed in deep concentration. He had sent the boy Draco to the Hospital Wing, despite the boy's protests.

There wasn't really anything wrong with him other than the fact that he was having difficulty performing the simplest of spells, but Snape had explained that it was easier for him to avoid inquiries about his sudden weakness in magic if he were to be 'too ill to wave his wand.' 

Severus practically had to force feed Draco with a potion that would give him a mild fever, headache, and minor muscle pain so that Madam Pomfrey would let him in the Wing without any more unnecessary questions. After all, while he was in the Wing, he had no need to do magic, and as soon as Snape finished making a batch of the potion that would give Draco his magic back, he would simply visit the boy and give him the potion.

***@***

_'I hate the Hospital Wing, I hate the Hospital Wing, I HATE THE HOSPITAL WING!!!'_

Draco drummed his fingers on his stomach, as he lay there, wide-awake. He still felt a little chilly and his shoulder blades were hurting because of that potion Snape gave him. Damn the man. 

_'Oh, no wait I forgot he told me…He's ALREADY damned.'_

This was so stupid. Why couldn't have Snape thought of something else? However, that was not the only thing that bothered him. Why had the potion worn off? Wasn't it supposed to be permanent? Maybe he had eaten something. Or he tired himself out to the point that he almost lost the benefits that potion had given him.

_'Or maybe it's just me…Maybe my body can't take all this unnatural magic anymore…' _He sneered in the dark, seething with irritation. He told himself to shut up. He told himself it was nothing to worry about, that he would never, ever become a full-fledged muggle. Ever. 

"I'd rather die first." He closed his eyes and drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

***@***

Narcissa could not get a wink of sleep that night. Beside her lay Lucius, fast asleep. Ah, yes these were the times when she liked him best: When his stupid, filthy mouth was shut. Slowly, and carefully she slipped out of bed, and put on her night robe over her sleeping garments. 

It had been so long ago. But it had happened. And for Draco, her son, her _beloved_ son she would have risked it a million times over.

***@***

Narcissa stared at the fire in the hearth. She was almost certain someone was trying to enter the Malfoy household by Floo powder. Which would prove to be difficult for any intruder. Only a few, well-regarded, chosen and privileged persons could access the manor by Floo network. 

_She stared at the fire again and watched as a shadow passed within it every now and then. She rose from her seat, and put down the cup of tea she was holding. She walked past the young Draco, who had fallen asleep near the fireplace, playing with his toys. _

_Crouching near it, she almost let out a scream when Severus Snape burst from the flames. She managed a shriek. "What are you doing here?" She hissed. "Lucius knows you hate leaving the comfort of your new home. He could come back any minute and become suspicious. If he kills my child because of your carelessness—_

_A long-necked, dark blue bottle was practically shoved into her pale face. Inside it, a dark fluid sloshed about. Snape glared at her from those sharp, secretive eyes. "Well? If you're so scared we might get caught, you might as well take it, Narcissa."_

_She took it from him, shaking slightly and almost not catching his next words as she looked at the bottle, mesmerized. "Make him drink it every night before sleeping for three weeks. It tastes horrible, I daresay. What I do not, however, is that he will enjoy drinking it."_

_Narcissa looked up at him helplessly. Gone were the usual bitter lines on her face. "Severus…Thank you." He opened his mouth to snort, no doubt, but stopped once she kissed him, the fingers of her other hand slowly creeping beneath his black locks to caress his nape. He murmured against her mouth and stopped, the moment they felt Draco stir at their feet. _

_Severus pulled away hastily, and though he tried to hide it, Narcissa could see the relief on his face when they both saw that Draco was only starting to open his eyes just then. _

_"Mother? I want to go to bed."_

_Narcissa nodded. She put the bottle atop the mantelpiece. She bent to pick Draco up and almost forgot about Snape when they heard footsteps outside. The child Draco spared a curious look at the Potions Master but because of his exhaustion decided to ignore him, to rub an eye instead. Why wasn't Mother picking him up to put him to bed? He was starting to simper. _

_Much as he hated crying, he was tired and wanted Narcissa to tuck him in. The woman, however, was staring at the door apprehensively. "Severus," She whispered. "That might be Lucius." She stared at her child's eyes, which were nearing tears. _

_"Draco's room is down that corridor behind you. Tuck him into bed. I'll go outside to hold Lucius for a while. That should give you enough time to get back by Floo."_

_Severus would have complained, had Narcissa not shoved Draco into his arms. Ick. He had to carry the kid. Oh, nice. Drool on his shoulder and the kid simpering even more. He wanted to glare at Narcissa, but knew he had to hurry._

_He rushed into Draco's room and hastily put the child to bed. He rushed to the door to get back to the fireplace and stopped midway, going back o pull the covers around Draco. 'When you get to Hogwarts, you little brat…' He thought, but had no time left to think any more. As fast as he could, he said his destination in a low voice to the fire, and disappeared._

_Just as Lucius and Narcissa walked into the room. _

***@***

"Hey. Hey. Wake up. Make haste. Wake up, Draco."

Draco rubbed his eye and glared as Snape continued to shake him. "Alright, I'm awake!" He hissed angrily. He thought sleeping in the Wing was bad enough without being woken in the middle of the night. "What do you want?"

Snape raised an eyebrow at him. "I am halfway done with the potion. However, I want you to drink this." He held out a small, red vial to Draco. "It should prepare your body for the strength of the potion I should have finished by tomorrow night. It's much stronger than the one you drank before, so we need to be more cautious."

In the dark, Draco scowled as he opened the vial. "Tomorrow night? I have to stay here till tomorrow night?!" "Any less effort or time on the potion will not help make it effective, Draco and I suggest that unless you want to lose your magic, you should let it sit until I perfect its composition."

Draco wiped his mouth after taking a swig from the vial. It was an effort not to vomit. "Yeah, okay. Great."

He lay back down, finding Snape even more annoying as the man spoke. "Feel dizzy yet?" He took the glare from Draco as the boy started to massage his forehead as a yes. "That's the effect of the potion you just drank. It should go away in a while."

Draco was already too dizzy and nodded weakly instead. He felt the professor's hands tucking the blankets around him and resisted the urge to tell him to go away. 

"Just like that night…when you put me to bed…and I was…I was almost…crying then…" 

His words were slurred, but Snape had heard. The professor nodded as the boy fell asleep quickly and straightened up to leave. 

"Yes. Just like that night. Sleep well, Draco."

A/N:

I wanna pinch baby Draco and hug him till he chokes! Wheee!!! 

Anyway, next time someone joins Draco in the Hospital Wing as a fellow patient. Who will it be? Read on to find out. But until then, REVIEW.


	5. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: Isn't it enough that I bother writing that D-word before anything else in almost anything? I mean, jeez, man…

A/N: **(I like to think all my Author's Notes are important pieces of precious knowledge essential to life…yeah right!!! No, but really, I put these here for you guys to read, not to ignore…)**

Okay…First stop: Thanks for reviewing, everyone. I'm glad I got a lot of responses that said this was a unique idea. Originally I was thinking of writing a Draco fic in a manner that would just let me drift from one subplot to another, but in the middle of writing it, the idea of making Draco-boy really a muggle came through, so there you have what resulted as my main plot. Hehe. And yeah, I'm pretty sure what I'm writing isn't slash. In fact Blondie-Boy Malfoy here doesn't have a love interest…I'm so sorry! Maybe next time, though. Please give me more constructive criticism; I appreciate your support

Chapter Five: Victory in the Wing

Fun. Yes, Harry supposed you could call it that. It was painful, but fun. Supported by Ron on his right, and Hermione on his left, he limped with a somewhat humble and friendly grin as a parade of Gryffindors flooded the corridor to the Hospital Wing. It was a bright, cheerful day, crowned by the fact that they had won the Quidditch match against the Hufflepuffs.

It was one of the smaller matches, but that made no difference at all. There was still a shower of candies and all sorts of sweets being passed around every person who had agreed to 'help' bring Harry to the Hospital Wing, and a chorus of joy that deafened almost everyone who did not join the small parade. However, the victory had not let Harry's leg escape pain. Sometime when he was diving for the snitch, he had let dangle his leg, and upon catching the golden little ball, had lost his balance and had landed painfully with all his weight on his right leg.

"Ow, Ron! Not too fast, jeez!" Harry continued to laugh, although he was still in pain. Beside him, Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron shrugged. "Well, the faster we get you to the Hospital Wing, the faster you'll heal, anyway."

"Not if you bring me in there dead!!!

"Hey, Ron," Lee shouted from somewhere at the back. "Don't kill our Seeker!"

"I don't plan to! But I could kill you if you wanted!!!"

Hermione shook her head. "Can we keep going now? I don't want Harry to suffer any more pain because of your carelessness, Ron."

"I AM NOT CARELESS!!!"

Harry laughed again. They were almost at the Hospital Wing now, and he braced himself, as the pain grew worse. Fred and George had offered to put him on one of those floating stretchers, but Harry had declined; he had been on those far too many times already. They rounded a corner, and soon reached the double doors that lead to the Wing. A couple of Gryffindors pushed it open, as Ron and Hermione supported Harry.

No sooner had they entered than Madam Pomfrey came bustling in.

"I just _knew _you were going to be in here!" She said as Harry flopped himself down gently on one of the beds. "Really, can't you be more careful! I can't remember anyone being here as often as you!"

"Nice to see you, too. And don't mind me, I love being in pain, anyway." Harry muttered under his breath, causing Hermione to sigh at him, though she had a small smile on her lips. Ron snickered.

"Well, pal, guess we'll come by later. Don't worry, we'll try not to finish all the sweets." Next came the rest of the Gryffindors, and a few other students from other Houses. They congratulated Harry and were soon on their way out. Soon The Boy Who Lived was left alone with Madam Pomfrey, though at the moment Harry felt quite justified in calling himself The Boy Who Was In Pain.

The next few moments were what he normally expected. Madam Pomfrey examined his leg, touching the area where it hurt, and applying a soothing balm over it. Next came the ghastly potion, which Harry soon found out he would have to take three times a day. However, he felt much better after, and was quite glad of being able to lie down, however much he was getting tired of staying in the Hospital Wing.

"Now you go on and rest, Mr. Potter. And when I say _rest_ I mean no getting up from that bed at all till your leg heals. If you need help with anything, ask me for it, and don't expect me to allow your friends to visit any time today. You'll see them tomorrow, and then you can gorge yourself in those sweets." Madam Pomfrey stared at him with those stern eyes, as if expecting Harry to leap out the window any minute. As soon as she left Harry felt himself relax. Not that he disliked Madam Pomfrey, but it was much easier to relax when you didn't have a nurse who nagged at you and looked just about ready to tie you down one of the Hospital beds.

He looked around carefully before removing his glasses and adjusting his head on his pillow. The beds were lined on the east and west walls, and windows provided just enough sunlight to shower the room. It was quite lonely, and very silent. However, Harry shortly noticed a curtain separating a bed not far from his—in fact his bed was right next to the concealed one, and he wondered why he hadn't noticed it before.

He shrugged. Well, whoever it was, Harry thought, he was surely sleeping, and he reminded himself he had to do the same. As if his body recalled all the strain he had put it through with all the practice and flight on his broom, Harry found himself drifting off to sleep.

Draco narrowed his eyes at the curtain that separated his bed from the rest of the Wing, something Snape had requested for him. So…famous Potter was there as well. Draco rolled his eyes and sighed.

Things couldn't get any worse…

When Harry woke up, it was already early afternoon. His stomach was growling, and it was a huge relief to spot a silver tray on the bedside table. Some soup, bread, some potatoes, and a glass of water. He was craving for some tea, but he knew better than to ask for other than that which Madam Pomfrey thought best for him to eat.

He could really use some of those chocolate frogs right now…

However, his stomach was still demanding for some food, and soon he was wolfing down the soup and the bread. He was halfway with his potatoes when he heard Madam Pomfrey screeching loudly at someone.

"Oh, you foolish boy! Trying to get up on your own! I tell you you've no business messing around with that fever of yours! When Professor Snape hears about this…"

And really, Harry could only groan at the next voice that was all too familiar to him.

"I DON'T NEED HELP GOING TO THE BATHROOM!!! I can do it by myself! I already did!!! I've been doing so successfully for more than a decade now!"

The voice drew nearer, and only then did Harry realize that the curtain that kept the bed beside him hidden had been opened. Soon Draco Malfoy walked unsteadily into the room, looker paler than usual.

Harry smiled slyly. "How was the potty, Malfoy?"

The Slytherin glared at him. "Why don't you find out for yourself, Potter? Or do YOU need Madam Pomfrey to help you?"

"No thank you, I'm quite comfortable where I am. Shall I tell Snape how you're faring next time I see him?"

"Like our Head of House would waste his time on some stupid, scar-faced yokel!"

"Well if he wastes his precious time on some spoiled cretin like you, surely he wouldn't mind paying some attention to the more civilized people around him—"

"And unfortunately you're not one of those people, Potter. So until then, stick to your lousy mudblood filled House, full of disgusting, spit-faced, obnoxious little idiots."

With that, and with notable (and freakishly weird, as Harry thought) grace Draco hopped onto his own bed and drew close the curtain.

Harry took a sip of his water. _'And good riddance…'_

__

Professor Severus Snape walked with the usual self-confidence and long strides as he entered the Hospital Wing. It was early, but he wanted to know how Draco was doing before he picked the boy up later at night to bring him back to the Slytherin dormitory. No sooner had he entered, however, when Poppy, her hands on her hips, confronted him.

"Good grief, Poppy! Must you always appear out of nowhere to scare the shit out of people?"

"Only when those people are responsible for the stubborn, hard-headed patients I keep here, Severus, and mind your language."

Severus gritted his teeth, and as was usual when he was dealing with Minerva or any other female co-league clearly out of her incomprehensible mind, he sighed, and decided to change the subject. "Draco has been causing trouble?"

"You could say that. He and Potter have been bickering non-stop. I have half a mind to dose them with some Sleeping Draught to shut them up both, Severus."

Snape ignored her, only to walk past to the next room. His eyes observed the scene before him, and he nodded to himself: The curtains were drawn around Draco's bed, and next to it, Potter lay asleep. "Well, they aren't having a banter now…"

However, he could not shake the feeling that it would have been quite amusing to hear the two boys arguing. Looking behind him briefly and finding that Poppy had gone off somewhere else, he walked stealthily to Draco's bed. As he had guessed the boy was dozing. He touched the boy's forehead to check his temperature, and jumped back somewhat when the boy's eyes flew open.

"Boo," Draco said grimly, watching as the professor narrowed his eyes in frustration.

"Do you _mind, _Mr. Draco Malfoy? I am trying to figure out whether you are in good condition so I can take you back to your dormitory later," Snape hissed.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I have a slight migraine, thank you very much. However, the muscle pain has lessened considerably. I also believe my fever is not as fierce as it was a while back."

Snape nodded. "Here," He reached deep inside his robes and pulled out Draco's wand. "Try a spell quietly, we'll see if _that _part of your illness has improved."

Draco eyed the wand. Although he would never admit it to anyone else, he was really quite apprehensive. Trembling a bit, and hoping Snape would think it was because of his weak condition, he reached for his wand and murmured, "_Lumos,_"

And for the first in a long time, Draco felt relief wash over him as a dim light appeared at the tip of his wand. However, moments later, it wavered weakly and disappeared. He looked at the Potions Master, scowling.

"Don't look at me like that, young man." Snape's voice was a dangerous tone. "That was much better than I expected. I'll give Madam Pomfrey the potion to give you after supper, and you should be back to normal after then, more or less."

"More or less?" It was an effort for Draco not to shout. "What do you mean more or less? Can't you do something—something more _solid?_"

"Until you know how difficult my job is, and how much care I must exert upon handling this situation with regards to your safety and my sanity, Draco, I suggest you do not gripe about anything more."

The moment Draco's voice came out resigned and almost desperate, the boy felt angry with himself.

"Isn't there anyone you know who can help?"

It was so long before Snape replied that Draco had begun to think he wasn't going to answer.

"You know there is only one man capable of handling this situation better than I could. There is only one other man who can keep this secret safe, as he has done with all my own secrets. Only one very wise and powerful man, Draco."

Draco was chagrined. "_I-AM-NOT-GOING-TO-LET-DUMBLEDORE-KNOW-ABOUT-THIS," _His whisper was fierce, and clear.

Severus regarded him carefully. "You know there is no other way but to come to him."

It was a few more moments before Draco settled back to his pillows, shaking his head quietly. Severus Snape backed away from the scene, and with the usual flowing robes, exited the Hospital Wing.

Midnight was a perfectly wondrous time to have a cup of tea in Dumbledore's office.

Severus sipped his tea patiently, waiting for the Headmaster to speak.

"You should have told me this sooner, Severus."

The old man's voice was grim and low, his blue eyes shining sadly. Severus sighed. "I am well aware of that, Headmaster. But I could not bring myself to. As time passed by I had thought perhaps there was no need…but now…" He trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

"Severus…this will not be easy. If Mr. Malfoy's body has began to reject magic—"

"Not completely, sir. At least, I do not believe it to be so. The spell he tried at the Wing obviously states he is not as strong as he used to be, but be that as it may, it still signifies he has even the least bit of wizardry in him."

"It might not last forever, Severus."

The Slytherin Head of House gripped his cup tightly before putting it down. "I could keep giving him doses of the potion, that way he could hide it well. The ingredients have a tendency to leave permanent effects. One of those effects may just instill magic in him."

The Headmaster sighed. "The Magician's Serum has powerful ingredients, yes, and their effect on a wizard's body may strengthen his magical abilities. However, you have to remember that Mr. Malfoy is _not_ a wizard. I am worried, Severus. The effects may as well kill him than help him."

"You know Lucius Malfoy would kill him if he found out the truth, Headmaster. Something needs to be done."

The elder man nodded, sighed, and stood to face the window behind his desk, overlooking the lake. "We know that, you and I both. So I assume you also know this: that by the symptoms you told me he had, Draco Malfoy is seriously ill. His body is confused, and does not know whether to function as a normal muggle's body would, or if it will accept the magic it has fed upon all these years. For now, however, the amount of magic has taken its toll on him. His body may start breaking down anytime."

Severus stood to leave. "Then I will make a cure."

"There is already a cure, Severus."

They both stood stock-still, not facing each other. "Then we must get it, Headmaster."

"It is no longer made anywhere, I'm afraid. And the last bottle of it is with only one wizard."

"Then I will find that wizard, Headmaster."

"You have found him already, Severus. You have met him many times. The Dark Lord Voldemort will not give the cure, not even to save the life of one of his faithful Death Eaters' surrogate son."

A/N:

Whew! Okay, I'm done. That thing with Voldemort just popped out of nowhere, I tell you! Please let me know of your opinions/ criticisms. No useless flames, please.


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